


When she read what you'd done

by DwarvenBeardSpores



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Gen, Infidelity, Multi, Post Reynolds Pamphlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarvenBeardSpores/pseuds/DwarvenBeardSpores
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angelica does understand what Alexander was struggling to do, but she will never tell him, or Eliza.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When she read what you'd done

Angelica reads the news and her heart breaks on her sister’s behalf. It should be a mistake. It shouldn't be possible for this man to be so heartless. To love too little and too much at the very same time. 

She knows it's not a mistake. The knowledge settles like a rock in her chest that feels almost like guilt.

She pulls out pen and paper and sits down at her desk.

_“My dear Sister, I hardly know what to say, except to offer you my love in place of his. I will make plans to join you with all possible speed, but with any luck this letter will reach you first and give you some condolence.”_

The pen scratches in the silent room, and despite the well of emotions too multifaceted to name, Angelica writes carefully, chooses her words the same precision that recognizes out-of-place punctuation, the same precision that puts such punctuation there on purpose. 

She writes about Eliza, how she does not deserve what Alexander has given her. She writes about her own dismay at the news. 

She almost writes _"I never thought him capable,"_ but that wouldn't be true. She has always thought him capable of a great many things, not all of them commendable.

She tries not to write about Alexander, because what he has done is unforgivable. He has betrayed their trust, Eliza’s and hers, and he deserves no forgiveness, no explanation, no attempt at justification!

And yet.

There’s that rock in her chest that somehow understands exactly what he was struggling to do.

She curses under her breath.

She can't explain why Alexander would cheat on Eliza. She can understand the restless urge of too much energy locked into a marriage, but she cannot accept that being wed to Eliza would produce that feeling. Nor can she imagine what the Reynolds woman is thinking right now. She must feel betrayed, too, her private affairs shouted to the world. Who is this man, so fickle with his heart, so charming with his words? 

Ah, the words. That's the part Angelica can understand.

Everything he has (had) is built (was built) with words. 

When he made a mistake and everything was crumbling, oh, he should have thought for a few seconds, he should have consulted someone else. But he was doing what he always did. He was wrong, he was so wrong, but wasn’t it reasonable for him to think, for just a moment, that he could use his words to get out?

Angelica knows how he gets caught up in his own mind. She knows the feeling of thinking a problem over, and over, and over, until you’ve boiled down the options to one less-than-ideal solution and you can’t see another one.

It makes her sick, the ease with which his train of thought can enter her head.

The pamphlet is Alexander's impossible attempt to protect himself. He never was willing to cede full control of his story. 

Angelica slams the pen on her desk. Oh, she should give him control now. Let him fall farther and farther from a pedestal of his own making, because what can he say now that won’t make the situation worse than it is? Just because she understands doesn’t mean she will give her support to the justification he’s no doubt trying to make. She will not help him.

She can’t do that to Eliza. 

Eliza. 

Eliza had sent a letter, telling Angelica about the situation. In between paragraphs where her penmanship was made sloppy by emotion was a single word on it’s own line:

_Why?_

Angelica picks up her pen again, steels her mind to the thought that whatever she writes, she writes for Eliza.

_“You have married an Icarus.”_

That’s the best she can do. She writes the sentence over and over in her head before finally putting the words to paper. 

On second thought she changes the period to a comma.  _“You have married an Icarus, he has flown too close to the sun.”_

It is true. It’s poetic, but it’s true. 

It pains her to write, but it’s true. 

She finishes without mentioning the thoughts building around the margins of the letter. Thoughts that creep against her mind often during these days of quiet, lonely... luxury? Can that be the right word? Her husband is wealthier than he's ever been, but England is cold, and her life does not feel indulgent. Memories press in, of days gone by when Angelica could charm a crowd with a smile, flirt and hope and fly. When revolution still burned in her veins and she thought she could save everyone. Helpless eyes and a hunger-pang frame and a feeling of falling because she’d finally found herself without a way out, without a right answer.

And yet, above all else, she’d tried to keep Eliza safe.

This is the difference.

Alexander hasn’t written to her. She doesn’t know if he will. Maybe he knows he doesn’t need to. Maybe he knows it won’t change anything. 

If he had hurt anyone else, she knows it would be easy to stand by his side, to offer explanations and suggest a course of action. 

But he’s hurt Eliza. 

Eliza, who used to crawl into Angelica’s bedroom at night so they could whisper stories and secrets to each other. Eliza, who blushes too much and talks too softly, who spends too much time dreaming out the windows. Eliza, who had fallen in love with so completely, who’s happiness is more important than anything.

_Anything._

Anything Angelica imagines writing now would be sharp and bitter. She will never admit to him that his move was anything other than completely insane. There are things more important than honesty.

Angelica imagines Alexander’s eyes, bewildered and lost, looking for her when she arrives in America. She shakes her head and imagines Eliza’s instead, heartbroken and trust-broken, and steels herself against whatever he might ask of her. 

Angelica might understand, but she cannot forgive.

She picks the words she knows will hurt him the most and tries them out in the empty room. “Alexander, I hope you’re satisfied.”

They both know he doesn’t deserve it.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you know how much I love Angelica? I love Angelica so much. I really hope I did her justice in this scene. 
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr as dwarven-beard-spores


End file.
